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There’s the old gag of a botanist returned back home way up in the highlands, giving a talk about Fuchs and using a uh not particularly recommended pronunciation.
Someone takes him aside afterwards to “correct” him on how it should be pronounced, to be told: “Aye, but Ah dinnae laek tae say tha in frrrount of the layydies.”
Maybe there are two German pronunciations depending on region? I had a German friend in college who pronounced it exactly as I’m implying (soft U) and recently another German friend confirmed it.
Marysh Maryrose, in France it’s not exactly the same pronounciation but close enough that we will make jokes on it (a seal frequently seen near Bordeaux was named “You” by surfers)
I’ve never been there, but there’s a lot of discussion online, and apparently “nor-fuck” is the most common pronunciation, with “naw-fuck” as a common variation.
There’s one by where I live. When we first moved in to our apartment, I asked my roommate if she wanted to go there with me…and then had to clarify.
“Do you want to get Pho King?”
“ExCUSE ME?”
“Oh. Uh. There’s a Vietnamese restaurant near here named Pho King Kitchen. Do you want to go there with me?”
“Pho” and “caulk” are words I mispronounce on purpose for the sake of clarity in conversation. Especially in a professional context on our department’s radio channel. “Ugh, I hate when stowers put several different brands of caulk in the same bin and I have to rummage around to find the right one.”
Bébé, je te compare à un baiser d’une rose sur le gris
Ooh, plus je reçois de toi, l’étranger on se sent, ouais
Maintenant que ta rose est en fleur
Une lumière frappe la grisaille sur le gris
Let’s all take a moment to really appreciate all the hard work that Willis put into drawing this page.
(Not actually poking fun at Willis here, but I do appreciate when artists occassionally find a way to produce good product while still saving time and effort.)
I’m looking really close at the chair and it’s definitely not the same frame repeated, though it would be entirely in Willis’ right to do so (and I’d totally save the time if I were an artist and had a set-up like this).
Her response was perfect though I’m pretty certain, given she didn’t remember his name, May does not know that Sven’s Dora’s brother (of course, this being May, I can’t be 100% sure she knows Dora’s Dale’s boss)… Nor will she know that Sven’s Marigold’s ex-roommate’s ex-girlfriend’s ex… Once Mono enlightens her I can see her either being furious with him for dragging her into the drama, or really confused as to why she should care given it was a one-off thing. Or possibly pissed with them all for not giving him another chance when he treated her well, pushing her to start dating him to prove a point…
At first I misread this as “Gogol apparatus.” Then my brain twisted it into “Bulgogi apparatus.” I think I’m going to have some interesting dreams tonight.
Bébé, je te compare à un baiser d’une rose sur le gris
Ooh, plus je reçois de toi, l’étranger on se sent, ouais
Maintenant que ta rose est en fleur
Une lumière frappe la grisaille sur le gris
I just had this mental image of Joyce as the star of her own Bill Nye-esque edutainment show where every episode she tries to swear but instead she just recites thirty minutes of helpful facts about science.
Someone should tell Joyce that using some cusses doesn’t mean you need to use all of them. There are a number I don’t use, they just don’t come out of my mouth.
Mrs. Landers was a health nut, she cooked food in a wok.
Mr. Harris was her boyfriend, and he had a great big coc—
-k-a-doodle-doodle, that rooster just won’t quit,
And I don’t want my breakfast because it tastes like shi–
Tzus make good housepets, they’re cuddly and sweet
Monkeys aren’t as good to have coz they like to beat their mea–
–eetings in the office, meetings in the halls.
The boss he wants to see you so you can suck his bal—
—zac was a writer, he lived with Allan Funt.
Mrs. Landers didn’t like him, but that’s cause she’s a cun—
–tamainated water can really make you sick.
Your bladder gets infected, and blood comes out your dic—
–tate what I’m saying, for it will bring you luck
And if you do not like it, I don’t give a flying fuck!
That brings up memories of a song of a similar nature I learned long ago:
Peter Murphy, Peter Murphy, sitting on a rock,
Along came a bumble bee, and stung him on his
Cocktails, gingerales, five cents a glass,
If you don’t like it, you can shove it up your
Ask me no questions for I will tell no lies,
If you ever get hit with a bucket of shit
Be sure to close your eyes.
Here’s the way I heard it from my parents back in the 80’s…
Miss Lucy had a steamboat, the steamboat had a bell
Miss Lucy went to heaven, the steamboat went to
hello operator, give me number nine,
and if you disconnect me, I’ll kick your fat
behind the ‘fridgerator there was a piece of glass,
Miss Lucy sat upon it, and broke her little
Ask me no more questions, tell me no more lies,
And if you get hit with a bucket of shit, be sure to close your eyes!
Just gonna point out that the Bible forbids taking God’s name in vain, but doesn’t really mention the use of vulgar terms for sexual acts or excretory functions.
“Conflicting accounts today from downtown Portland where the President’s motorcade was halted by a mass of pedestrians. The White House is calling the incident that stopped the President’s motorcade a lawless protest and even suggested that it constituted a riot. But according to witnesses on the scene, the crowd was unrelated to the President’s visit. They say it was spillover from people waiting to get into the grand opening of the city’s newest Vietnamese noodle house. As one local law enforcement officer put it, rather than rioting, Portland just gave Trump a massive pho queue.”
I liked it better when she was holding in the curse words and said when she did use them they would have power., because she was right. When she said “Damn you” to Becky’s dad that had as much of a punch as the fist she threw at him
Ah, finally. I don’t like making test posts. But that’s what happens when you cause a person’s posts to disappear for a time you fail to specify without ever informing them that they’d disappear in the first place. Which is especially annoying when you’re in the middle of a debate.
Tbf, that first time you say Fuck feels so damn weird. It’s like your body goes weightless for a moment, and then you cringe in anticipation of a lightning bolt hitting you or your parents materializing out of thin air to tear you a new one, and then…
Nothing. Nothing happens. The world doesn’t end, God isn’t going to curbstomp you into the dirt, and life goes on as it always has.
Maybe Joyce should try a different tack. Swyve (pronounced swive) is a middle english word which means exactly the same thing as fuck, but has the advantage of being archaic enough to go unremarked by others. Back when I was doing ISP tech support I would mutter “Swyving Sheol” after a particularly vexing call with no issue, whereas if I’d used modern English “Fucking Hell”, I’d have been lectured (and eventually fired if repeated) for using ‘language unfit for the workplace’.
Like Loki calling Black Widow a “mewling quim” in Avengers, it’s amazing what you can get past the radar if you’re careful.
I’m fondly reminded of the King of the Hill episode where Peggy has to teach Sex Ed. Specifically, the bit where she’s in the bathroom, trying to teach herself how to say some of the words she’ll need to use in front of the class.
This. We have a daughter with special needs, and have started teaching her the proper names for the parts of her body (she’s 7, about to turn 8.) Both because it’s important to know what things are actually called, and do that she can tell us or other adults (doctors, etc) specifically if she has discomfort or if anything happens that shouldn’t.
This! Although we can’t say for sure if she is trying to fit some rebellious stereotype, or actually ‘being herself’ more by getting past these behavioral conditionings.
I feel for Joyce here. I’m not sure why, I just feel kinda sorry for her. Maybe because I wonder if she is feeling pressure to now be a ‘bad’/rebellious person (I responded to BenRG about this above)….I dunno, is she replacing one set of norms and expectations to fit into with another? Or trying to liberate herself from arbitrarily imposed rules?
I’ve been studying postmodernism this semester for a grad class and I can hear certain authors being like, “That’s an artificial distinction.” Thanks, Tracy and Tretheway.
So this is pretty common among people brought up in authoritarian households. You’re taught if you reject any one part of the beliefs you reject everything.
So EITHER you believe what we tell you and do what we say OR you’re doomed to get addicted to drugs, fall into organized crime and die young and violently after being a terrible person your whole life who has all the gay sex and probably also rapes babies and engages in bestiality because you rejected their beliefs and that includes all morality and ethics.
So… Yes. Joyce is trying to follow The Rules of rebellion. While simultaneously being terrified of following those rules because that way lies dying alone and unloved in a ditch or prison.
Or her bit with Becky about how if evolution is true, then her entire Christian faith falls apart because No Adam & Eve in Eden -> no Original Sin and thus everything is a goddamned lie.
Apropos of nothing, has anyone else been having a sustained cultural identity crisis, lately? On paper, I qualify as “white” and “American”, but that’s pretty much the extent of what I can claim. I can’t point to a specific sort of ancestry and say “Yep, that’s where my family is from, and I’m part of that.” Growing up, plenty of my friends could confidently say “Yeah, my family is Mexican/Black/German,” and I remember feeling jealous, even at a young age, wishing I could have that.
I also can’t think of anything that’s American that I can take pride in or at least not feel ashamed of, if I wanted to just roll with my country of birth. Any time I bring up American culture in an attempt to find something I can connect with, all I get back is a depressing anti-American screed about how horrible this country is. Any potential good I can think of is immediately shut down with reasons it’s inherently invalid by nature of not being uniquely American. “What’s an American holiday or party or family get-together, how do you identify one?” “Shopping and oppressing brown people.”
There’s no family-specific traditions I can talk about with anyone, because nobody ever bothered to establish any. I feel this weird sort of guilt any time I consider my father’s side of the family being largely Italian-American. Like, I don’t really think I can claim that heritage, even though it’s around 50% of my genetics, because I’ve never interacted with any but 3 of those people. I don’t really know any of my mom’s or dad’s extended families, so I can’t claim them, either.
Basically, I have absolutely no connection to any sort of cultural heritage that doesn’t immediately fill me with shame, but I want to have that, so I’m just left feeling empty-handed and sort of orphaned in a way. Is this normal? It doesn’t feel normal. It feels like when you’re right at the end of a video game, but when you look at the items screen, there’s a bunch of slots marked [???], and no matter where you look or ask online, you can’t find any information on the missing items and people are annoyed with you for even wanting to know.
I actually did go through something of a crisis like that a few years ago. It led me to the insight that choices outweigh accidents every time. You didn’t control the circumstances of your birth, your nationality, your sex OR gender, or anything else, so how can you ever fault someone for those?
My aunt and uncle (mom’s sister and husband) are not good people. They’re very kind and welcoming to me, their straight cis nephew, but they regularly misgender my little sister and have told her to her face that she’s going to hell. She didn’t CHOOSE to be trans, she wals born biologically male and around her 18th birthday she came out, because the dysphoria she felt led her to a suicide attempt. That they choose to hurl abuse at her makes them some of the worst people I know, and I don’t talk to them anymore.
My dad’s mother, on the other hand, saw that it didn’t MATTER. My sister is her grandchild, end of story. It took her a few years to get to that point, but my grandmother still got there and I’m eternally grateful for it.
National pride is up there, too. I was lucky, being born in America at the end of the second millenium CE. That’s it. Cultural pride can lead really quickly to nationalism, and even if I hadn’t already been disillusioned with the whole bag of shit, 2016 really put a stake in the heart of the concept.
I’m sorry if I didn’t address the heart of your problem, but I guess my point is to take pride in the good actions you and the people you’ve chosen commit, not in accidents of birth and geography.
Delicious Taffy – you can always invent your own traditions, you know. My fiancee and I have invented/appropriated a few, seeing as we have no real common culture between our families (I’m 100% Irish all the way back, and she’s Japanese enough to get furious when someone calls her Chinese) or actual connection to our genetic cultures, and it works out great.
Just don’t ask about my family traditions I got from my father. Great guy, but I’m not sure what he was smoking when he came up with some of them.
Hey, yeah, I started going through that probably 3-4 years ago. And with the state of America, it’s only gotten worse. I’ve done a couple of things to combat it. For one, I explored my more distant ancestry. My grandparents on my dad’s side were German, but Americanized so rapidly that my dad got almost none of that culture to pass on. And my great-grandparents were Dutch, but again, they shed their culture as quickly as they could to assimilate. I did some genealogical research to find out the places where my ancestors lived for multiple generations, and then learned about the cultures of those regions, and the history of the time period when they lived there. That helped me to gain a sense of roots, even though I’ve never visited those places myself. I hope to, some day, though!
The other thing that I’ve done that has helped establish a sense of culture and identity is that my wife and I have started some of our own traditions. In some cases, they’re inspired by American traditions, but I’ve also been inspired by elements of the cultures of my ancestors. One example is “Yule”, which we celebrate on the winter solstice. At sundown on the shortest day of the year, we turn off all house lights except for a few strings of Christmas lights, and we light candles. We don’t turn computer/tv/phones or the electric lights back on until sunrise the next morning, and we leave at least one candle burning all night (usually in the sink once we go to bed). It’s cosy spending time in the candlelight with my spouse, and acts as a reminder of why people used to gather together so much in the darkest part of the year. If we ever have kids, I look forward to sharing that and other “new traditions” with them, and I hope they’ll carry that legacy forward.
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“or like, what’s German for fox? Fffffff…orks?”
Forks has the bonus point of sounding like a Good Place reference.
If any show could send Joyce further into an existential crisis, it’s that one.
So someone needs to show her immediately then, is what you’re saying.
There is also the now long running classic team-up of Eugene Levy and Catherine O’Hara in https://www.cbc.ca/schittscreek/
Enjoy ^_^
Fork candles?
German word for ‘fox’ is ‘Fuchs’ — pronounced ‘fooks’.
Keep trying, Joyce.
There’s the old gag of a botanist returned back home way up in the highlands, giving a talk about Fuchs and using a uh not particularly recommended pronunciation.
Someone takes him aside afterwards to “correct” him on how it should be pronounced, to be told: “Aye, but Ah dinnae laek tae say tha in frrrount of the layydies.”
Ba-doom *pish*
And let’s not even get started on ‘Shih Tzu’
Just remembered the city where Excel Saga takes place
Fukuoka
Airport code FUK
“Norfolk, Virginia.”
“The French word for ‘seal’ is phoque.”
Serious question for French speakers: is the “fuck” pronunciation of “phoque” just a Canadian French thing, or is it broader (or narrower) than that?
No, it’s pretty general. French Canadians may be more inclined to accentuate the resemblance, though, especially if there are Americans around.
And then there’s the German pronunciation of the German philosopher Kant…
Does anybody use a non-German pronunciation?
People who pronounce it ‘can’t’ presumably
Also those who butcher other languages.
ex
Messy-buckets Gar-Cone
The German pronunciation is “kahnt,” rhymes with English “want,” so there’s actually no resemblance to what you’re implying. :p
But the English “want” does rhyme with that.
“Want” does not rhyme with “stunt” in any dictionary I’m familiar with…
Maybe there are two German pronunciations depending on region? I had a German friend in college who pronounced it exactly as I’m implying (soft U) and recently another German friend confirmed it.
Due to recent events, I can’t see or hear Kant’s name without thinking of an existential Mary Jane Watson.
The German philosopher can’t what?
Marysh Maryrose, in France it’s not exactly the same pronounciation but close enough that we will make jokes on it (a seal frequently seen near Bordeaux was named “You” by surfers)
(as in “le phoque You” )
Isn’t the city pronounced closer to “Nor-fock”?
“Norfolk and chance” is a sort of opposite of “shut the front door”, it’s not swearing, but it really sounds like it is in several UK accents.
I’ve never been there, but there’s a lot of discussion online, and apparently “nor-fuck” is the most common pronunciation, with “naw-fuck” as a common variation.
(sings)
We are the girls of Norfolk!
We don’t smoke or drink–
Norfolk!
I see you getting on a line to buy some Vietnamese soup
and I’m like
Phở queue
Oo oo ooh!
There was a chain of franchised Vietnamese restaurants called “Phở King”….
There’s one by where I live. When we first moved in to our apartment, I asked my roommate if she wanted to go there with me…and then had to clarify.
“Do you want to get Pho King?”
“ExCUSE ME?”
“Oh. Uh. There’s a Vietnamese restaurant near here named Pho King Kitchen. Do you want to go there with me?”
“Pho” and “caulk” are words I mispronounce on purpose for the sake of clarity in conversation. Especially in a professional context on our department’s radio channel. “Ugh, I hate when stowers put several different brands of caulk in the same bin and I have to rummage around to find the right one.”
I’m sorry but this is absolutely hilarious. xD Bwahahahahah !!! xD
For a second there, I thought you were building up to a “What does the fox say” joke.
Joyce Performs a Cuss
Fukutin, everyone’s favorite pokemon.
Fukutin I choose you
Wouldn’t be the first Pokemon to struggle with Nintendo’s word filters >.>
Oh, Joyce, baby.
It’s okay, take your time.
scat
Ba-da-ba-da-ba-be bop bop bodda bope
I’m the Scatman!
If the Scatman can do it, so can you!
People give me weird looks when I put on Scatman John, until we get a few songs in. Then they get it.
Just go ask Mike to help. He’ll drop a brick on your foot or some shit and you’ll be cussin’ in no time.
“But try to hit a nail, and if the hammer fails
Then the words you use
To describe that bruise
That’s basic language!”
Jerry Jeff Walker, The Ballad of the Hulk
Even serious foot injury doesn’t get F-bombs from Joyce.
so you believe in proteins, eh
“Do you believe in proteins in a young girl’s heart?”
Is Yahoogle really fyook-o-teen before any other word like that?
(I’m asking for a friend.)
I guess old habits die hard. She’ll do it when she’s too pissed off to overthink it.
French seal?
Bébé, je te compare à un baiser d’une rose sur le gris
Ooh, plus je reçois de toi, l’étranger on se sent, ouais
Maintenant que ta rose est en fleur
Une lumière frappe la grisaille sur le gris
I’m impressed.
La complainte du phoque en alaska
That song is beautifully calming! … Guess I’m into old french music now XD
Welp, that’s another family guy reference that got hit with the French stick
(But in all seriousness nice song my guy)
Let’s all take a moment to really appreciate all the hard work that Willis put into drawing this page.
(Not actually poking fun at Willis here, but I do appreciate when artists occassionally find a way to produce good product while still saving time and effort.)
I’m looking really close at the chair and it’s definitely not the same frame repeated, though it would be entirely in Willis’ right to do so (and I’d totally save the time if I were an artist and had a set-up like this).
It’s not? *Boots up Photoshop* … It’s–it’s not! I guess it’s still a relatively simple drawing to repeat, but I’m impressed all the same.
The phone poking out in panel 3 is great fun!
…Four.
The better to stab God with.
It’s okay Joyce. You don’t have to swear to defy God. I’m living proof of that fact!
But it fucking helps!
This is to make up for some hellacious crowd scene later, isn’t it?
In unrelated news, I knew Momo was gonna find out that May slept with Sven, and now I’m just waiting for the fireworks.
Her response was perfect though
I’m pretty certain, given she didn’t remember his name, May does not know that Sven’s Dora’s brother (of course, this being May, I can’t be 100% sure she knows Dora’s Dale’s boss)… Nor will she know that Sven’s Marigold’s ex-roommate’s ex-girlfriend’s ex… Once Mono enlightens her I can see her either being furious with him for dragging her into the drama, or really confused as to why she should care given it was a one-off thing. Or possibly pissed with them all for not giving him another chance when he treated her well, pushing her to start dating him to prove a point…
More likely would be Momo conplainung that May’s an awful winglady.
How do you remember this shit? I’m still not entirely sure who Sven is
Ah, golgi apparatus proteins: Comedy gold
At first I misread this as “Gogol apparatus.” Then my brain twisted it into “Bulgogi apparatus.” I think I’m going to have some interesting dreams tonight.
It could just be a fancy kitchen appliance
Plays Golgi Apparatus on the hacked Muzak.
…That’s a thing?
THAT’S A THING!!!
I can’t wait until I make my students listen to that song. They haven’t yet understood what a massive dork their teacher is.
(Or, to be fair, they probably have)
Perhaps they thought they had, but there are always new depths to surprise them with.
*Puts on sunglasses*
Challenge accepted.
Seconds later…
Ohhhhhh, fuuuuuuuhhhhhhdge. Dang it!
Only I didn’t say “fudge”.
Dangit.
Bébé, je te compare à un baiser d’une rose sur le gris
Ooh, plus je reçois de toi, l’étranger on se sent, ouais
Maintenant que ta rose est en fleur
Une lumière frappe la grisaille sur le gris
Ignore this
ai de shinu nara, kisu de koroshite~
I just had this mental image of Joyce as the star of her own Bill Nye-esque edutainment show where every episode she tries to swear but instead she just recites thirty minutes of helpful facts about science.
(Also, posting Eartha Kitt’s take on this concept because it makes me happy. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SS02GeKuWQ4)
Bill Nye’s been swearing a bit while talking about science recently, and it’s great.
That is adorable!
Someone should tell Joyce that using some cusses doesn’t mean you need to use all of them. There are a number I don’t use, they just don’t come out of my mouth.
EVERYONE has a number of curses they don’t use.
I mean, I don’t think I’ve ever used ANY !Kung swear words.
Joyce is not really known for her great expertise in taking things in moderation.
Like… anything.
*notices Willis referenced George Thorogood so I don’t have to*
Mrs. Landers was a health nut, she cooked food in a wok.
Mr. Harris was her boyfriend, and he had a great big coc—
-k-a-doodle-doodle, that rooster just won’t quit,
And I don’t want my breakfast because it tastes like shi–
Tzus make good housepets, they’re cuddly and sweet
Monkeys aren’t as good to have coz they like to beat their mea–
–eetings in the office, meetings in the halls.
The boss he wants to see you so you can suck his bal—
—zac was a writer, he lived with Allan Funt.
Mrs. Landers didn’t like him, but that’s cause she’s a cun—
–tamainated water can really make you sick.
Your bladder gets infected, and blood comes out your dic—
–tate what I’m saying, for it will bring you luck
And if you do not like it, I don’t give a flying fuck!
That brings up memories of a song of a similar nature I learned long ago:
Peter Murphy, Peter Murphy, sitting on a rock,
Along came a bumble bee, and stung him on his
Cocktails, gingerales, five cents a glass,
If you don’t like it, you can shove it up your
Ask me no questions for I will tell no lies,
If you ever get hit with a bucket of shit
Be sure to close your eyes.
Here’s the way I heard it from my parents back in the 80’s…
Miss Lucy had a steamboat, the steamboat had a bell
Miss Lucy went to heaven, the steamboat went to
hello operator, give me number nine,
and if you disconnect me, I’ll kick your fat
behind the ‘fridgerator there was a piece of glass,
Miss Lucy sat upon it, and broke her little
Ask me no more questions, tell me no more lies,
And if you get hit with a bucket of shit, be sure to close your eyes!
There’s a song that does this same sort of thing, called Life of the Party by Charlie Robison.
Also check out Oscar Brand’s “Clean Song”.
If yer aff tae pumpin’ swear, swear wi’ an extreme Scots accent.
Just gonna point out that the Bible forbids taking God’s name in vain, but doesn’t really mention the use of vulgar terms for sexual acts or excretory functions.
Maybe if someone pointed that out to Joyce she’d get over it faster.
Fun kit tall.
Joyce: “FUS RO DAH!”
*Joyce causes many couches to fly and break the windows.*
Asma: “No thu’ums in the reception!”
Asma: Shoots Joyce in the knee with an arrow.
Alduin *breaks off roof of building, looms over Joyce*: “AHA, I have you now, little Dovahkiin, and nothing will stop me from…”
Joyce *kicks Alduin’s ass*
“Conflicting accounts today from downtown Portland where the President’s motorcade was halted by a mass of pedestrians. The White House is calling the incident that stopped the President’s motorcade a lawless protest and even suggested that it constituted a riot. But according to witnesses on the scene, the crowd was unrelated to the President’s visit. They say it was spillover from people waiting to get into the grand opening of the city’s newest Vietnamese noodle house. As one local law enforcement officer put it, rather than rioting, Portland just gave Trump a massive pho queue.”
I wish this were real. (Look at me using subjunctive)
Whakatane, a beautiful town in New Zealand
I liked it better when she was holding in the curse words and said when she did use them they would have power., because she was right. When she said “Damn you” to Becky’s dad that had as much of a punch as the fist she threw at him
If it helps, she still has yet to say ‘Fuck’ if I recall correctly.
although she is trying to change that right now.
Man, David really went all out with the illustrations for today.
I kid, I kid, it’s a great strip!
DoA Book 9: FFFFFFFFFFF
DOA book 10: FFFF…darn it.
“Remember son people know who you are by the words you use not the things you do.” Clay Puppington
Are my comment gonna start appearing again?
Ah, finally. I don’t like making test posts. But that’s what happens when you cause a person’s posts to disappear for a time you fail to specify without ever informing them that they’d disappear in the first place. Which is especially annoying when you’re in the middle of a debate.
Tbf, that first time you say Fuck feels so damn weird. It’s like your body goes weightless for a moment, and then you cringe in anticipation of a lightning bolt hitting you or your parents materializing out of thin air to tear you a new one, and then…
Nothing. Nothing happens. The world doesn’t end, God isn’t going to curbstomp you into the dirt, and life goes on as it always has.
I cant say I relate. I’m irish and here we curse pretty much every second word even as kids (to our parents dismay)
I’m guessing your parents did it when they were kids too, though, yeah? Is this one of those cases of like parental memory loss/double standards?
This is oddly adorable
Becky’s dad was a gardening gardener.
Maybe Joyce should try a different tack. Swyve (pronounced swive) is a middle english word which means exactly the same thing as fuck, but has the advantage of being archaic enough to go unremarked by others. Back when I was doing ISP tech support I would mutter “Swyving Sheol” after a particularly vexing call with no issue, whereas if I’d used modern English “Fucking Hell”, I’d have been lectured (and eventually fired if repeated) for using ‘language unfit for the workplace’.
Like Loki calling Black Widow a “mewling quim” in Avengers, it’s amazing what you can get past the radar if you’re careful.
I’m fondly reminded of the King of the Hill episode where Peggy has to teach Sex Ed. Specifically, the bit where she’s in the bathroom, trying to teach herself how to say some of the words she’ll need to use in front of the class.
Though it’s funnier with Joyce.
Happiness
Hap-iness
Hap-penis
Penis
Purely IMO, those who teach their children to only use euphemisms in terms of sexual organs and sexual acts do them no favours in a dangerous world.
This. We have a daughter with special needs, and have started teaching her the proper names for the parts of her body (she’s 7, about to turn 8.) Both because it’s important to know what things are actually called, and do that she can tell us or other adults (doctors, etc) specifically if she has discomfort or if anything happens that shouldn’t.
Joyce, don’t try to be someone else. Just try to be you, because we adore you for it!
This! Although we can’t say for sure if she is trying to fit some rebellious stereotype, or actually ‘being herself’ more by getting past these behavioral conditionings.
But if she doesn’t have that structure, how does she know what is right, what she should believe?
http://www.dumbingofage.com/2019/comic/book-9-comic/03-sometimes-the-sky-was-so-far-away/structure-2/
I would like that particular strip a lot less without the alt-text.
The conditioning! Its breaking!
Woohoo!
This is just sad
I feel for Joyce here. I’m not sure why, I just feel kinda sorry for her. Maybe because I wonder if she is feeling pressure to now be a ‘bad’/rebellious person (I responded to BenRG about this above)….I dunno, is she replacing one set of norms and expectations to fit into with another? Or trying to liberate herself from arbitrarily imposed rules?
I’ve been studying postmodernism this semester for a grad class and I can hear certain authors being like, “That’s an artificial distinction.” Thanks, Tracy and Tretheway.
So this is pretty common among people brought up in authoritarian households. You’re taught if you reject any one part of the beliefs you reject everything.
So EITHER you believe what we tell you and do what we say OR you’re doomed to get addicted to drugs, fall into organized crime and die young and violently after being a terrible person your whole life who has all the gay sex and probably also rapes babies and engages in bestiality because you rejected their beliefs and that includes all morality and ethics.
So… Yes. Joyce is trying to follow The Rules of rebellion. While simultaneously being terrified of following those rules because that way lies dying alone and unloved in a ditch or prison.
See “ruinous mistakes in a motel dumpster”.
Or her bit with Becky about how if evolution is true, then her entire Christian faith falls apart because No Adam & Eve in Eden -> no Original Sin and thus everything is a goddamned lie.
You can do it Joyce! its like duck but with an F
Small steps, Joyce. Start with damn and ass. They’re in the Bible, so it should be easier. Then go or the more intense ones.
Apropos of nothing, has anyone else been having a sustained cultural identity crisis, lately? On paper, I qualify as “white” and “American”, but that’s pretty much the extent of what I can claim. I can’t point to a specific sort of ancestry and say “Yep, that’s where my family is from, and I’m part of that.” Growing up, plenty of my friends could confidently say “Yeah, my family is Mexican/Black/German,” and I remember feeling jealous, even at a young age, wishing I could have that.
I also can’t think of anything that’s American that I can take pride in or at least not feel ashamed of, if I wanted to just roll with my country of birth. Any time I bring up American culture in an attempt to find something I can connect with, all I get back is a depressing anti-American screed about how horrible this country is. Any potential good I can think of is immediately shut down with reasons it’s inherently invalid by nature of not being uniquely American. “What’s an American holiday or party or family get-together, how do you identify one?” “Shopping and oppressing brown people.”
There’s no family-specific traditions I can talk about with anyone, because nobody ever bothered to establish any. I feel this weird sort of guilt any time I consider my father’s side of the family being largely Italian-American. Like, I don’t really think I can claim that heritage, even though it’s around 50% of my genetics, because I’ve never interacted with any but 3 of those people. I don’t really know any of my mom’s or dad’s extended families, so I can’t claim them, either.
Basically, I have absolutely no connection to any sort of cultural heritage that doesn’t immediately fill me with shame, but I want to have that, so I’m just left feeling empty-handed and sort of orphaned in a way. Is this normal? It doesn’t feel normal. It feels like when you’re right at the end of a video game, but when you look at the items screen, there’s a bunch of slots marked [???], and no matter where you look or ask online, you can’t find any information on the missing items and people are annoyed with you for even wanting to know.
Sorry if this is more disjointed than usual.
I actually did go through something of a crisis like that a few years ago. It led me to the insight that choices outweigh accidents every time. You didn’t control the circumstances of your birth, your nationality, your sex OR gender, or anything else, so how can you ever fault someone for those?
My aunt and uncle (mom’s sister and husband) are not good people. They’re very kind and welcoming to me, their straight cis nephew, but they regularly misgender my little sister and have told her to her face that she’s going to hell. She didn’t CHOOSE to be trans, she wals born biologically male and around her 18th birthday she came out, because the dysphoria she felt led her to a suicide attempt. That they choose to hurl abuse at her makes them some of the worst people I know, and I don’t talk to them anymore.
My dad’s mother, on the other hand, saw that it didn’t MATTER. My sister is her grandchild, end of story. It took her a few years to get to that point, but my grandmother still got there and I’m eternally grateful for it.
National pride is up there, too. I was lucky, being born in America at the end of the second millenium CE. That’s it. Cultural pride can lead really quickly to nationalism, and even if I hadn’t already been disillusioned with the whole bag of shit, 2016 really put a stake in the heart of the concept.
I’m sorry if I didn’t address the heart of your problem, but I guess my point is to take pride in the good actions you and the people you’ve chosen commit, not in accidents of birth and geography.
Delicious Taffy – you can always invent your own traditions, you know. My fiancee and I have invented/appropriated a few, seeing as we have no real common culture between our families (I’m 100% Irish all the way back, and she’s Japanese enough to get furious when someone calls her Chinese) or actual connection to our genetic cultures, and it works out great.
Just don’t ask about my family traditions I got from my father. Great guy, but I’m not sure what he was smoking when he came up with some of them.
Hey, yeah, I started going through that probably 3-4 years ago. And with the state of America, it’s only gotten worse. I’ve done a couple of things to combat it. For one, I explored my more distant ancestry. My grandparents on my dad’s side were German, but Americanized so rapidly that my dad got almost none of that culture to pass on. And my great-grandparents were Dutch, but again, they shed their culture as quickly as they could to assimilate. I did some genealogical research to find out the places where my ancestors lived for multiple generations, and then learned about the cultures of those regions, and the history of the time period when they lived there. That helped me to gain a sense of roots, even though I’ve never visited those places myself. I hope to, some day, though!
The other thing that I’ve done that has helped establish a sense of culture and identity is that my wife and I have started some of our own traditions. In some cases, they’re inspired by American traditions, but I’ve also been inspired by elements of the cultures of my ancestors. One example is “Yule”, which we celebrate on the winter solstice. At sundown on the shortest day of the year, we turn off all house lights except for a few strings of Christmas lights, and we light candles. We don’t turn computer/tv/phones or the electric lights back on until sunrise the next morning, and we leave at least one candle burning all night (usually in the sink once we go to bed). It’s cosy spending time in the candlelight with my spouse, and acts as a reminder of why people used to gather together so much in the darkest part of the year. If we ever have kids, I look forward to sharing that and other “new traditions” with them, and I hope they’ll carry that legacy forward.
Google Image the “Fuku Den” restaurant.
How would Joyce pronounce that place if it was in Bloomington? Ha!
Well, I guess she’d just have to say Fuku Den.
Then there’s the “circus” tune ENTRY OF THE GLADIATORS … look up the name of the composer, then ask Joyce to try and pronounce it!